


Being Inside a Really Big House

by Pussyhands



Series: Dumb Kids [9]
Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Mac McDonald, Canon-Typical Behavior, Catholic Guilt, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Episode: s05e01 The Gang Exploits The Mortgage Crisis, M/M, Manipulative Dennis Reynolds, Roleplay, Top Dennis Reynolds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:35:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24683944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pussyhands/pseuds/Pussyhands
Summary: Of course they end up running from the cops. Soaking wet, in their underwear and barefoot, clutching their new expensive clothes and shoes to their chests. “That was so homophobic” Dennis pants as he and Mac crouch behind some bushes. “Yeah they were real pieces of shit” Mac agrees. They look at each other, giggling like schoolgirls. The adrenaline rush has them giddy and electrified. Sure, they run from the cops almost every week, but being wet, barefoot and basically naked gives it a different flavor. Also, they’ve become separated from the rest of the gang, accidentally on purpose, and they’ve had their eyes locked now for longer than what would be considered normal between friends.
Relationships: Mac McDonald/Dennis Reynolds
Series: Dumb Kids [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689493
Comments: 8
Kudos: 60





	Being Inside a Really Big House

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is sort of a sequel to the previous fic in this series, “Baby Boy”. You don’t need to read it to understand this one though, just know that Dennis gave Mac a blowjob in a restaurant bathroom in that fic, before the events of The gang exploits the mortgage crisis. This one starts just after the gang are kicked out of the pool.

Of course they end up running from the cops. Soaking wet, in their underwear and barefoot, clutching their new expensive clothes and shoes to their chests. “That was so homophobic” Dennis pants as he and Mac crouch behind some bushes. “Yeah they were real pieces of shit” Mac agrees. They look at each other, giggling like schoolgirls. The adrenaline rush has them giddy and electrified. Sure, they run from the cops almost every week, but being wet, barefoot and basically naked gives it a different flavor. Also, they’ve become separated from the rest of the gang, accidentally on purpose, and they’ve had their eyes locked now for longer than what would be considered normal between friends.

“I’ve still got Frank’s card” is all Dennis has to say, and Mac feels a chill run down his spine.

* * *

It’s the nicest hotel Mac’s ever been in. It’s also the nicest hotel Dennis’ ever been in but he’s not about to admit that. Instead he eyes the clerk up and down like she’s covered in sewage. “We’d like the honeymoon suite. No we don’t have a reservation. Oh it’s booked is it? Well just give us the most expensive room you have available then sweetheart”.

Mac’s mind is in overdrive during the elevator ride up to the twenty first floor. What’s Dennis’ plan? what’s going on? He just drove them here without telling him anything. He hopes, with every fiber of his being, that Dennis wants to finish what he started in the restaurant bathroom, but maybe all he wants is to max out Frank’s credit card on room service and porn? After all, the show’s over. They’ve already fucked up selling the house and adopting Dee’s hypothetical baby. Maybe Dennis is over all that now. Mac doesn’t dare ask, it would break the spell. He can’t have his hopes crushed like that. His hopes. This is disgusting. Dennis has completely perverted him. He was straight before he met him. Well, he’s still one hundred percent straight, but something about Dennis makes him impossible to resist. Must be his womanly figure. Mac knows he should get as far away from him as possible, settle down with a beautiful and busty woman and have a couple of babies. It’s what God would want for him after all. But the thought of moving out of their apartment, of not seeing Dennis anymore, fills him with dread in a way he’s never felt before, not even when his dad found that sticky men’s underwear catalogue under his mattress. No, he’s stuck, like a fly to Dennis’ web, and he’s not going anywhere.

Mac can’t help gawking when they open the door “Wooow dude this room is the size of our apartment!” but Dennis just strolls in and he looks so at home, so natural, that it’ll feel weird seeing him in the seedy bar atmosphere tomorrow. Mac wonders how he does it, why he seems like he belongs to these places while Mac feels so out of place and awkward. They live in the same apartment, they own the same bar, they have a joint bank account for god’s sake.

Dennis suddenly turns to face him. “I want you to go into the bathroom, and have a nice long shower. Wash your hair, get all that gel out. Then, wash yourself thoroughly. Every crevice of your body. I’ll know if you don’t, and you’ll just have to shower again. You need to be fully clean, inside and out, before coming back in here, do you understand Vic?” Oh. There it is. And there’s that condescension again, which has inextricably been tied to arousal in Mac’s mind by now. He’s frozen in place, staring with wide eyes, so Dennis repeats himself. “I. SAID. DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND” He says very slowly and deliberately, as if Mac was suffering from brain damage. “Yeah. Yes I understand”. “Good!” He says like he’s house training a puppy, “off you go!”.

Alone at last, Dennis orders three bottles of champagne from room service. It’s a conservative estimate, alcohol wise, at least for a couple of seasoned alcoholics, but he doesn’t want to get wasted tonight. He wants to remember everything. More importantly, he wants Mac to remember everything, and also, to give it up knowingly. It’d be so easy to get him drunk and have his way with him, but where’s the fun in that? Where’s the challenge? No, Mac has to be conscious and coherent (or as coherent as he can get). Only that way will this feel like a victory. Dennis walks up to the floor to ceiling windows, looking at the city’s twinkling lights below. This is it. This is where he belongs. He’s high on luxury and power and he’s been peaking all day. The thrill of having complete control over someone. Mac’s been slowly giving in to Dennis all day. The moment he agreed to go shopping for expensive clothes in character, was the moment Dennis knew he had him, he could slowly but surely start eroding all his taboos and hang ups. He’d always wondered how far Mac could be pushed. This isn’t drunken groping that they can ignore the next morning. Mac’s in there, scrubbing himself raw just because Dennis told him to. What will he allow? How far can Dennis push him? He’s going to test Mac’s limits tonight, and then he’s going to tear them down.

By the time Mac comes out, wrapped in a towel, hair wet and falling on his forehead, the champagne’s already arrived and chilling in a big bucket of ice. Mac’s smile is tentative. He doesn’t know where to sit. He thinks maybe Dennis wanted him to get dressed in the bathroom, but then what would be the point of washing if he’s just going to put on the same dirty underwear he’s been wearing all day? He also did some thinking in the shower. Somehow, thinking about his own eternal soul is much less scary than thinking about what Dennis expects of him out there. Maybe god will excuse this since he’s only playing a role, like a loophole? That’s not too likely, Mac thinks. Maybe if he leads a perfect, heterosexual life after tonight he won’t go to hell? The prospect of living a perfect, heterosexual life fills him with dread, but he’ll just stuff that down right now, he’ll get to it when he gets to it. And anyways maybe he’s making this into something it’s not. Dennis probably wants to relax and watch tv. It’s not the first time he’s demanded he showers, and it’s never sexual, it’s just because he has such a delicate sense of smell. But if it’s not sexual, why the fuck is he calling him Vic?

Dennis is sitting on one of the white leather couches watching a fashion show. He takes his time acknowledging Mac, leaving him to stand in the middle of the room, feeling more exposed and awkward by the second. When he finally does, there’s a twinkle of something in his eye. Excitement? Mischief? Evil? He pats the seat on the couch next to him and Mac is grateful that he doesn’t have to strip, because he’s feeling very vulnerable right now. It’s not fair that Dennis is fully dressed while he’s standing there almost naked. He hands him a glass of champagne and holds up his own. “To us” and they’re sharing a toast. This is nice, Mac thinks. They lock eyes as they drink and Mac quickly averts his gaze. Actually, it’s romantic. Mac looks around and feels like a trapped animal. It’s one thing to do unspeakable things with your best friend when you’re drunk and horny, that’s just bros helping each other out. It’s entirely something else to be sharing a romantic toast when you’re only slightly buzzed from lunch, in a beautiful hotel room, and with Dennis looking at him like that...

“Do you want to make me happy Vic?” Hugh asks, almost innocently. “Yes. Of course I do” Vic can’t help but answer immediately, his mouth working independently from his brain. “Then get on your knees”. Hugh gestures to the space in front of him. So, the romance didn’t last long. Vic drops to his knees with a thud. He’s never done this like this. He’s sucked a few dicks before, even Dennis’ dick, once, but every time he’s been drunk out of his mind, kneeling in an alley or a bathroom, rough and quick, not sober in a fully lit hotel room. He downs his glass in one go and takes a big swig from the bottle on the side table under Hugh’s watchful gaze. “Oh are you nervous baby? That’s so cute!” He coos, as he holds Vic’s chin up with his right hand. “I’ll guide you through it ok? It shouldn’t be too hard for you to follow directions. So, first step is, take my dick out”.

The champagne hasn’t succeeded in steadying the shaking hands undoing Hugh’s new pants. He’s half hard already, and Vic can’t help but stare. “You gonna be a good boy and do what I tell you?” Vic looks up at him. He’s so nervous it’s like he’s auditioning for a part in a musical instead of getting ready to suck a dick, so he’s glad he’s got Hugh to tell him exactly what to do. Hugh sighs, starting to get annoyed by Vic’s lack of initiative. “Open your mouth” and Vic immediately opens it and takes out his tongue. Oh this is gold!Hugh thinks. He’s realizing Vic thrives when he’s told exactly what to do, and luckily, Hugh’s here to do just that. “Where would you be if it weren’t for me huh?” But Vic can’t answer because he was told to keep his mouth open and that’s what he’s going to do until further instruction. It takes a few seconds to dawn on Hugh but when it does he can’t help but laugh. Vic flinches but stays frozen in place all the same. Hugh wants the blowjob, but he knows that if he passes up this opportunity he’ll be kicking himself forever, so he restrains himself, pours another glass of champagne, and goes back to watching tv.

He can see Vic, from the corner of his eye, in the same position in front of him, kneeling with his mouth open and his tongue out. How long can he keep him like this? He muses as he jerks himself off absentmindedly. Hours? He must test it another time in their apartment, having Mac kneel on the bare floor, with his tongue out, drooling all over himself, just to leave him there while he goes about his business. The thought is incredibly sexy to him. Knowing Mac could get up at any moment. He could decide to kick his ass, but he won’t. He doesn’t need zip ties or duct tape to keep him there, he just needs to give out the order, and Mac will obey, and just thinking about it makes him completely, almost painfully hard. He will test it, but not now, because he really wants that blowjob. He looks down at Vic. He doesn’t know how long it’s been but he can tell it must have been more than a few minutes by the pained look on his face.

“Alright now baby, put it in your mouth” and as Vic wraps his lips around the head he ads “if I feel any teeth you’ll be spiting them out after I knock them loose with my knee, understand?” Vic looks up and hums around Hugh’s cock to try and convey understanding. His eyes are wide, within them a mixture of embarrassment, fear and arousal, and Hugh’s never seen anything so breathtaking in his life. “Now go on, up and down, suck it like you mean it, and keep your eyes on me”, and having said that, Hugh goes back to watching tv. He couldn’t tell you what’s on if his life depended on it, but it’s much more degrading to Vic if he acts like this is nothing to him, so he does, and sips on his champagne while Vic bobs his head up and down, desperately trying to please him. He grabs the base of Hugh’s cock and Hugh bristles. “No baby, no hands. I want you to get it all in your mouth. You think you can do that for me?” Vic’s looking up with apprehension in his eyes “here, I’ll help you”, and Hugh grabs him by the hair with his free hand. He starts pushing down, very gently, feeling no resistance from Vic until he hears him gag around his dick, and then he pulls him back up, leaving just the tip in his mouth. Vic’s face has gotten red and his eyes are watering. “Look at me. I want you to do a good job alright? I know you wanna do a good job for me. You wanna please me don’t you? Yeah? So just let it happen, come on open up your throat” and with that Hugh’s pushing his head down again, and to his credit, Vic’s really trying his best to deepthroat his loving husband, so Hugh keeps it gentle, his hand more coaxing and guiding than pushing and pulling, getting more of himself inside Vic with every thrust.

“Clever boy! You’re doing so good baby, theeere you go, just like that” and Vic’s bottoming out at last, drool pooling on the couch beneath them. Vic’s doing his best to control his gag reflex, so Hugh runs his hand through his hair, gently but firmly securing him in place. Sure, Vic could, physically, pull his head off. No one is forcing him there, only a hand on his head and a stern look. But he wouldn’t dare. He wants to be the best he can be for Hugh, he wants him to be proud of him, so he sputters around his dick and tears run down his cheeks as Hugh says “look up at me”, his voice more distorted with arousal than he intended.

When he looks up the flash of a camera startles him. This asshole’s just taken a picture of him with his whole dick in his mouth. He starts to pull off but Hugh’s hand holds him down. “Don’t worry baby this is just for my own private collection alright? You just look so good down there, you look so fucking hot sucking my dick Vic, it’s amazing”. Vic isn’t too oblivious to know that Hugh’s just telling him what he wants to hear, he knows exactly what to say and he knows it because he’s been studying him for almost twenty years. He knows perfectly well what a slut for praise he is, he’s been doing it since they were teens, commenting on how swole he’s looking just to get free drugs.

It doesn’t matter though, because it works, and as Hugh’s hand releases him he pulls off just enough to catch a breath and continue. Hugh is rapidly doing calculations in his head. He could keep this up, he really, really wants to cum in Vic’s mouth and have him show it to him before he swallows it, but he looks down and sees that Vic’s hand is inside his towel. Of course he’s getting off on this, he probably gets more out of this than me! He thinks indignantly, and he knows Vic’s going to cum as soon as he does, because he’s got no self control. And as soon as he cums he’s going to go into gay panic catholic guilt self loathing mode, and Hugh doesn’t want to have to deal with that yet. Vic’s shown enormous potential for obedience, more than Hugh ever imagined, and he wants to test just how far he can take this.

So he catches his breath and yanks Vic’s head up by the hair. He pulls off with a pop and a confused look in his eyes. “Come on babe, lets get more comfortable”, and he knows it’s a cheesy line, but he doesn’t give a shit. This whole setup is cheesy anyways. He gives Vic a hand to help him to his feet. He’s a real class act. “Wipe your face, you look disgusting, and have some bubbly for your throat sweetie”. Vic practically downs the whole bottle in one go. The mixture of humiliation and kindness in Hugh’s words is making his head spin. Meanwhile, Hugh is daintily holding his glass as he strolls towards the king sized bed. Vic half stumbles to where the second bottle is chilling and tries to pop it open with trembling hands. His hair’s completely disheveled, his face is wrecked and there’s a huge and embarrassing tent in his towel that he’s doing his best to hide by adopting unnatural and awkward poses. Luckily Hugh’s carefully crafted persona doesn’t mind that Vic spills champagne on the carpet and chugs it straight from the bottle. He’s just laying propped up by the pillows, sipping on his drink and looking at Vic like he’s the most amusing thing he’s ever seen. “Fill me up” he says and holds his glass out. Vic approaches with uneasy step and does as he’s told.

“Lose the towel baby boy”. And just like that the towel drops to the floor. “If you want this to happen again you’re gonna have to take care of the landscaping down there you know what I mean?” But Vic’s stopped listening after the word “again”. This is the happiest day of his life. This is it. He’s gonna fuck Hugh and he’s gonna be allowed to fuck him again, sometime in the future, maybe lots of times! Maybe god wants him to go through with this, so he can repent latter, much latter, like, in his eighties, and renounce his old, sinful ways, be an example to the community, travel around denouncing the evils of homosexuality. Yeah! That’s gotta be it! otherwise why would he be sending so much temptation his way? Otherwise, why would he have sent Hugh?

He hasn’t been told to sit so he remains standing there, no longer trying to hide his erection. “How about we switch it up a bit Vic? You up for that?” Vic’s up for anything, and he’s definitely up for switching it up, which he reasons must mean he’s gonna get another blowjob. “Yeah! Sure, anything De...Hugh” “Come here then, lay down on your stomach”. It’s a strange way to get a blowjob but Vic doesn’t argue and does as he’s told. By now he knows that this is Hugh’s show. All he has to do is play along and he’ll be golden. He feels Hugh’s hands on his shoulders, rubbing and massaging. Vic feels himself melt into the bedding. This is so nice, he would have never guessed this evening was going to evolve into him getting a massage and a blowjob. If anything, he would think the pool boy would be the one expected to give out the back rubs but he’s not about to complain. Following orders and trying to do a good job sucking dick while trying to not look stupid while trying to make Hugh fall in love with him (what?? Where did that come from?) was all fairly stressful, if arousing, and the massage was very much appreciated. Maybe Hugh is realizing all that I do for him. Maybe he’s trying to return the hand? Hugh massages lower along his back, kneading his sore muscles, which Vic does work out despite what is said to the contrary, and comes to land on his ass, cheeks being rubbed in nice relaxing circles and... pried open? Wait.

“Dude what are you doing?” Vic turns his head to the side to try and look at Hugh, who’s seated himself straddling his thighs. “Have you ever gotten fucked in the ass Vic?” “What?! No! No dude cos I’m not gay!” “I know you’re not buddy... but Vic is” and if Vic could see his face he’d see Hugh’s eyes twinkle with mirth and excitement, intently focused on his virgin ass. “You’d do anything for me wouldn’t you baby? I know you would, that’s why I feel so protected by you, you know?” Vic props himself on his elbow so he can lock eyes with Hugh and better convey how serious he is about this. “We agreed I was the top, man” “yes... yeah we did, that’s why I asked you if you were ready to switch it up” Hugh says good naturedIy, like it’s the most logical thing in the world. “I thought you were talking about...I don’t know man it seems a little gay” “it’s not gay baby! It’s acting!” Hugh laughs “you want to commit to this role right?” “Yeah...” Vic’s voice is weary. He may not be a stupid science bitch but he’s smart enough to know the conversation is veering off into dangerous territory. “And you want to be a good husband to me don’t you?” “Yeah I... of course I do Hugh, I wanna be the best husband ever” “then give me what I want. You know I’ll make it good for you, I’ll make it so good baby. Do you trust me?” “Of course I trust you” Vic is running out of arguments “it’s just that...” “here’s what we’re going to do” Hugh interrupts “, brisk and businesslike “drink some more champagne” he says passing Vic the bottle from the nightstand “relax, and let me do this. I’ll go slow, because I care for you Vic, I would never hurt you. So do you trust me?” And he looks deep into his eyes, holding his gaze. Vic is defeated. He’s got no comeback, so he just takes a big swig of champagne and mutters “yeah”. He hears the click of a bottle of lube uncapping.

Mac guesses he’s always had some... gay feelings. It’s normal, every normal, straight guy wonders sometimes. It’s normal for the mind to wander when you see a beefcake, or a roommate with great thighs. And if he focuses more on Dennis than on the girls when he’s watching the tapes, well, that’s nobody’s business but his own. He’s slept with tons of girls, even ugly girls, sick girls, fat girls, girls he couldn’t possibly be attracted to. What’s straighter than that? He’s even slept with Dennis’ mom! So he’s had some, tiny, insignificant gay feelings, and sometimes he wonders how it would feel like, but he’s never, erm, explored his own butt. There’s something too real about that, too final.

He feels Hugh’s finger tentatively sinking between his cheeks. “Open your legs a little bit for me babe” and Vic does, of course he does. He braces himself and Hugh says “relax, just let it happen”, as he screws a lubed up finger inside his tight virgin ass. This is not too bad. He can take it. It just feels like an intrusion. It might not be nice, but it’s not painful, just a little uncomfortable, so he takes a deep breath and decides to just go with it. If this is what Hugh wants, then he’s going to give it to him. He’s a badass, he can take anything you throw at him. He’s not going to like it, but he’ll show Hugh he’s secure enough in his heterosexuality to see this through. “I’m gonna put in another finger alright?” And Vic nods weakly. Ok, this isn’t too bad, it’s actually starting to feel sort of nice. It does hurt, but he finds himself not caring as a different sensation overtakes him. Hugh’s fingers are inside him up to the hilt now, and he’s started fucking him with them, scissoring inside him, stretching him open. Almost to Vic’s chagrin, it’s starting to feel real good, and he can’t help the moan that escapes his lips. Behind him, Hugh swells up with triumph. “Lift up your hips a little for me babe”. Vic does as he’s told, and if he keens a little against Hugh’s fingers, well that’s just a natural bodily reaction. It could very well be a girl’s fingers making him feel like this, imagine it’s a girl. Vic quickly entertains the thought and just as quickly pushes it out of his head. For some reason, it’s way less hot than picturing Hugh, behind him, fingering him like he was one of the women in his tapes.

“You done this before?” he asks, and Vic answers no. It’s not like he’d tell him if he had, but for once, he‘s telling the pure, unadulterated truth. “Not even by yourself? No? Vic that’s so sweet! That’s so cute!” And the sugar in his voice could kill you from a diabetic coma “you’re liking it huh? I can tell you are. It’s gonna be way better when I plug you up with my big fat cock”. Hugh can see Vic shudder beneath him, either from fear or arousal, any which one is good, and he thinks he can take more, so, without warning, he slips in a third finger. “You’re doing so good baby, I’m so proud of you, taking my fingers like a champ”. Hugh is fingering him hard and fast, hitting his prostrate just so, and Vic is becoming undone beneath him, his hole pulsating and spasming around his fingers. “Tell me what you want. What do you want Vic. You wanna get fucked? Huh? Say it. I’ll walk right out of here if I don’t hear you say it, leave you alone, squirming on the bed with your ass open, like the sad little whore you are”. Hugh’s words go right to Vic’s dick. He always knew he liked debasement, to him it’s right next to love, so he says “I wanna get fucked Hugh” in a low, trembling whisper. Maybe if he says it low enough it won’t be true. “Yeah you do. Turn over”, says Hugh, slipping his fingers out of him and giving his ass a hard slap as he looks at his stretched, red pulsating hole. He needs to see his face for this.

Vic is completely wrecked. Disheveled hair, red cheeks and pupils blown wide, his exposed cock hard and already leaking. Hugh knows he’s got him exactly where he wants him, as he slowly begins to undress, not taking his eyes off of him for a second. “Look at you, you’re so gorgeous like that, so perfect for me baby” He gives himself a few slow tugs as he slathers his cock with lube, looking in Vic’s eyes and biting his lip. Vic looks like he’s far away, hipnoticed by the way Hugh’s looking at him, mouth open and eyebrows scrunched, making him look needy and confused at the same time, and oh, so submissive. it’s making Hugh crazy. He props himself up oh his forearm on the bed besides Vic’s head, hovering above him. “Look into my eyes baby boy” and with one movement, he buries himself deep inside Vic, as far inside as he can, and a slow, pained moan escapes their lips in unison.

“Goddamn you’re tight. You ok baby?” He asks, stroking his hair. Vic nods with his eyes open wide, and manages a choked, tiny “yeah”. It’s music to Hugh’s ears. Would he have stopped if the answer was any different? Maybe, maybe not. He’s never been this considerate with the girls he fucks, but then, he doesn’t have to live and work with them. But also, there’s something else, he feels something he can’t really place, a sort of tenderness for Vic, looking so sweet and trusting beneath him. Almost innocent. “I’m gonna fuck you now”, he says looking deep into his beautiful brown eyes, and he’s pulling out, just to ram back in, to the hilt. Vic’s eyes widen in shock, and Hugh sets a steady pace, keeping his eyes on him. It’s a good thing he’s a master of self control or he’d be jizzing inside him right now. Vic’s closed his eyes, eyebrows scrunched like he’s trying to understand the plot of a movie. “Open your eyes baby, look at me”, and his eyes flicker open.

Hugh is fucking into him with short, hard and shallow thrusts. It burns like hell, and he’s trying with all his might not to clench around Hugh’s cock, because the pain’s on the brink of being too much, and he’s not going to let Hugh down. Pain isn’t the only thing he’s feeling though. Most of all, Vic feels full, overwhelmed by the idea of having Hugh’s dick buried deep inside him. Looking at him is almost too much for him, but he wants to be good so he does. “You like it?” The condescending, infantilizing voice is back, and Vic discovers, to his surprise, that he’s glad “oh I know you like it baby, you’re taking it so good, so good for me. That’s right. Such a good boy”. He hits a spot that has Vic reeling and grabbing at his shoulders, his back, running his hands though his beautiful chest, and Hugh lets him, because he’s much more lost to the world than he’s trying to let on, and far too gone to enforce some arbitrary no touching rule. Vic’s laboriously panting as he dips down to bite at his neck, so he whispers in his ear, “just let go baby, I wanna hear you” and Vic whines like a girl, but he doesn’t give a shit, the world could crumble around him and he wouldn’t bat an eye. Hugh is looking at him intently as he pumps in and out of his tight and aching hole, with something in his eyes that Vic can’t really place. It’s something he’s never seen in there before, something soft, which he doesn’t dare name. So he lets go, letting the words spill out of his mouth unexamined.

“Don’t stop Den, please don’t stop, I just wanna be... want you to fuck me Den. Please, just please...” Mac hears himself beg and he doesn’t care. Nothing matters now, just this. Just what’s circumscribed to the sanctuary of the hotel bed. “Yeah I’m fucking you, I’m balls deep inside you, you feel that? I’m gonna fucking wreck you Mac, I’m gonna ruin your fucking life” he’s fucking him harder, making the whole bed shake, and they can’t help locking eyes, like they were the only two people in the universe. “You’re gonna make me cum you evil fucking bastard, you’re gonna make me cum with your dick in my ass. You like that? You like watching me squirm beneath you? You sick fuck” Mac’s jerking himself off furiously and Dennis is completely shocked by the words he hears escape his lips. Sure, he expected Mac to like it, even love it, but not to admit it, and not in a million years did he think he’d hear something like that coming from him. “Oh you love it. You love getting fucked Mac, you’re a natural taking my cock so good, you’re so good for me, you were made for me to fuck you” “yeah I was, I’m yours Den, I’m yours I’m yours”. Mac’s repeating like a lithany, becoming completely undone and incoherent. He could die right now. He wishes he did, with Dennis’ dick deep inside him, and stay like this forever. To be buried like this, fuck the preacher, fuck dad, fuck the holy Roman Catholic Church, fuck everything that isn’t this.

“I’m gonna cum Den, I’m gonna cum oh god” “yeah that’s right baby you wanna cum? You wanna cum for me? Huh? You wanna cum all over yourself like a dirty fucking slut?” And it’s that final insult that pushes him over the edge. He cums harder than he ever has before, and the sounds that come out of his mouth are unrecognizable but he doesn’t care, because he can’t hear them. All that’s real to him is this, now, the bliss that is Dennis. When Mac comes to he hears him, still hammering away at him “I’m the best you ever had, I’m the best, baby, I’m your god, I’m everything to you, I own you, this is mine” he snarls as he grabs Mac’s hips with his big, graceful hands, and it’s more to himself than Mac, but Mac, still hazy and disoriented from his orgasm, answers “I’m yours Dennis” and Dennis cums deep inside him with a deep and low growl, drunk on the knowledge that he means it, that this beautiful man beneath him is completely his, body and soul, shooting his cum deep inside him, feeling Mac spasm beneath him.

* * *

Mac and Dennis stare at each other. Neither has said a word since they finished. After fucking Mac through the aftershock and getting off of him, Dennis lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling and panting while Mac gets up to get the third champagne and wipe his own mess off his stomach. Now they’re drinking straight from the bottle, reclining on the bed, in silence, and they can’t help looking at each other. Dennis is calculating. What to do, to make this a recurring occurrence. He hasn’t had much sex where he feels something for the other person. Much less anything as deep and complicated as what he feels for Mac. Its overwhelming, but that’s not... bad, per se. It’s something he could get into, actually. It’s pretty great. He hasn’t felt so much adrenaline during sex since, well, since never. Roommates, colleagues, fuck buddies. That doesn’t sound bad, not bad at all. Maybe something more? He scoffs at himself. Yeah, you’re gonna start a relationship with the most violently homophobic man you know. Yeah that’s super probable. He knew that wasn’t an option just one week after meeting Mac, when he went into a half hour rant when RuPaul came on the Range Rover radio. It’s stupid, but at least they’ve got this, and it is sort of better than a relationship, Dennis was never any good at those anyways. This is a friendship, a partnership. And what’s better than a friendship with awesome mind blowing sex?

Mac is having his weekly silent gay panic session. Just that this one is ten times worse because he can feel his best friend’s jizz sipping out of his asshole while he has it. This is not straight. It’s not straight at all. But is it gay? His eyes dart around while he’s trying to figure it out and Dennis, who is silently watching him, muses not for the first time today that if he were an animal, Mac would be a very large and excitable dog. It’s not gay! Because they were playing a part. Hugh Honey and Vic Vinegar are gay. They’re just two straight friends acting. Except they weren’t acting towards the end there were they? Was he, Mac, ever really acting? He was just saying stuff because Den wanted him to, there was no character. But why was he so keen on doing what Dennis wanted him to? Because they were playing a part. The logic is circular and Mac feels like he’s chasing his own tail. No, this can never happen again, he thinks, deep inside the familiar cocoon of post orgasmic guilt. No matter how good it was, no matter if it was the best sex of his life. Specially because it was the best sex of my life is why, he thinks. If I can resist that, God will think I’m so badass, rejecting sin and terrible temptation. I’d be practically a more ripped karate Jesus.

Dennis looks at Mac and smiles. He hopes it doesn’t get complicated between them. Mac smiles back and his heart skips a beat. He is completely and irredeemably in love with Dennis. Shit.

“Frank’s gonna be pissed” is all he can think to say, and they both laugh, sitting a little too close for comfort, as always. “Let’s get tons of room service, I’m fucking starving”.

**Author's Note:**

> Any comment is appreciated, thanks for reading!


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